


Long-Distance

by Laurasauras



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Masturbation, Phone Sex, Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-09
Updated: 2019-01-09
Packaged: 2019-10-07 05:03:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17359517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laurasauras/pseuds/Laurasauras
Summary: John and Dave are used to making it work long-distance style. Phone sex is not new for them. John telling Dave to get off in public is.





	Long-Distance

You hold the phone in between your cheek and shoulder awkwardly as you pay the poor lady at the music store . You smile and mouth thank you at her before replying to John.

'See that's where you're wrong, as well as in every other conceivable way. No one is saying Rhianna is _bad_ , unless they're following it up like "yo, she's a bad bitch" in the most flattering way possible. I'm not saying that in the least, I’m just saying that there are other equally bad bitches out there ripping up the hip hop scene without having songs like fucking _Umbrella_ in their back catalogue.'

'Admit it, Dave,' John says. 'You've danced to _Umbrella_ before. You liked it. Don't lie to me.'

You arrange the vinyls in your backpack and swing it back over your arm. As much as you're loving the constant contact with your boyf, it is making some things inconvenient. You're surprised you haven't run out of things to say yet, it's been - you check the display of your phone -

'First of all, of course I have, John, I'm not a fucking monster, and secondly, dude, we've been on this call for over 50 hours now, high five me.'

'If you mean you want me to slap my hand to the screen of my phone you are the biggest dork in the history of dorks.'

You wait a moment as if you don't have the speaker next to your ear, like you're doing exactly that.

'Did you do it?' you ask.

' _Daaaaaave_ ,' he whines. 

You grin. He's always making you smile like a complete idiot. 

'Hey, I could have told you to kiss the screen, that shit would be actually embarrassing. Oh, hey, John, we should kiss the screens at the same time, it'll be totally cute and not at all the most douchetacular thing we've ever done.'

John laughs in that adorably giggly way he has. You love making him laugh like that. 

'You realise that I'm at home, alone in my bedroom, and that's only embarrassing for you, right? I'd do it if you did it!'

'Yeah, and _you_ realise that I don't give a shit what people think of me, I'll passionately make out with my iPhone and I bet I'm not the only one who would. They're sexy phones, John, god _damn_ that design is sleek.'

You're wandering aimlessly around the mall now. You aren't ready to go home, because as much as you can talk shit about literally anything, it's kinda nice having the world to inspire you. Plus, this way John doesn't think you're a total shut in. Not like he's much better, but still.

'Hey, you want me to get you a present while I'm out?' you ask. 'You got a $10 budget babe, I'll go all out for my one and only.'

'What kind of shops are there?' he asks.

'Not a whole bunch,' you admit. 'Kinda small mall. Uh ... there's a supermarket, movies, music store (obvs), um ... like three nail salons, why the fuck would one mall need three nail salons? Food court, but I'm not sending this shit to Washington. Couple clothes shops ...'  
You start doing a lap of the mall even though you know that there isn't magically going to be an extra shop you haven't remembered. You come here for the cheap records pretty often, it's not like it's an unfamiliar place.

'What's on at the movies?' John asks.

'Dude, you have a problem. Did you even hear the rest of what I said or did you just get an instant boner at the prospect of a movie theatre? You know I can't get you anything there, right?'

'Yeah, you caught me! The second you said that there were movies playing in vaguely the same space as you I just started jerking it, right now. I'm touching my dick right now, Dave. What do you have to say to that?'

He's joking. He's absolutely joking. He's making a very funny joke. That you started. 

'Ha,' you say, unconvincingly. You should get better at laughing. That's clearly the problem here.

' _Dude!_ ' he says.

'What?' you say. 'Shut up! Okay? I'm maybe a tiny bit on edge, maybe, but I think given this whole totally rad and not at all sucky long distance deal where I haven't gotten laid in over two months that maybe I'm allowed to ...'

'To what? Pop a public boner because I joked about jerking it?'

'Could we maybe stop talking about that subject and talk about ... sports or some shit instead? Or, hey, I'm at the movies now, I'm going to read out the showing times in a really non-sexy way. We got scary nun, Jack Black wizard, Asian rom-com, ahhh something French I can't pronounce-'

'Just go into the next showing,' John says.

'Okay, but that's the French shit and I hate subtitles, so I'm gonna be making my own story up, fair warning.'

There's not really anyone else at the cinema in the middle of the day, and it's a pretty shitty one with only two screeny-roomy thingies besides, so it doesn't take you long to get your ticket. 

'Okay, so I guess this is the end of the streak? 50 hours was pretty good though.'

'You're not hanging up on me,' John says. 'You're taking me to the movies.'

'That's a sweet thought, and I guess I could facetime you or something, but this isn't like us watching Netflix on Rabbit or whatever, it's gonna sound shit. And I can't talk on the phone in a cinema, that's fucking rude.'

'Dave,' John says, and he's using his commanding voice. The one he used last time he came down to visit you. You dropped to your knees so fast after he told you to that you actually had bruises the next day. You're kinda powerless against John's commanding voice.

'Yeah,' you say.

'You're gonna take me to the movies. And you're gonna do what I say. 'Cause you're good for me, aren't you?'

'Best I can be,' you say, casually. You’re not fooling anyone.

Your mind has immediately jumped dick first into the gutter, but you're trying to hold back those unruly thoughts. He might just want to continue the streak. He might have ... something that isn't ... god, you just want to ask him.

'What are you gonna make me do?' you ask. Your voice is weird with nerves.

'Depends on how good you are for me,' he says.

You moan, just a tiny noise you can't help, before you remember how very in public you are and stamp down on that shit. You might be the worst guy to attempt public sex, you have zero fucking control over your reactions where John is concerned.

'John ...' you beg. 'This ...'

'I mean, you can just go home,' John says. 'But you did say you didn't give a shit what people think _and_ you said you'd give me a present.'

'Okay, shit, just ... hold on one sec.'

You put your phone in your pocket while you hand your ticket back to the same guy who just gave you the thing and he rips it in half. What a pointless fucking interaction. You’re offended on behalf of trees right now. You walk past him into the cinema, your steps jittery as fuck. You take a seat right at the back, and at first you think you're the only one in there, but there's one other guy, right up the front. 

'There's someone else in here,' you whisper to John.

'You'll have to be quiet then, won't you?' he says. 

You jump at the loudness of his voice in contrast to the silence of the theatre. You know he's not actually loud, but ... shit.

'But not too quiet,' John says. 'Otherwise it's not much of a present.'

'Fuck,' you whisper.

The ads start up and their noise is a comforting contrast. You let yourself breathe for what feels like the first time in ten minutes, knowing that John can hear how affected you are. You can't feel self conscious in the face of what he's asking.

'Hey Dave?' he says.

'Yeah,' you whisper.

'I was joking before, but I'm not now.' You hear the rustle of fabric against the speaker and then the sound of a zip before more rustling.

'I'm on my bed, and I'm only wearing my underwear.'

You whine.

'You wanna see?' he asks.

'God, yes, please,' you say.

You can't hear anything while John presumably takes a picture. You notice that the screen is advertising a local cafe, but you couldn't care less. Your attention is entirely on trying to hear anything from your phone.

'Okay, check your messages, baby,' he says.

You almost drop your phone fumbling it from your ear to in front of you. You carefully open the messaging app without dropping the call and refresh it, impatiently. The message drops in and you look at it greedily. Two pictures, you're the luckiest son of a bitch in Texas.  
The first one is focused on John's face, winking and biting his lip with a tantalising peak at his bare chest. Can you put that as your background? It's technically not raunchy but the expression he's giving you is scrambling your brain up in a way you probably don't need every time you unlock your phone. God he's gorgeous.

You flick to the next pic and bite your finger to stop yourself from making some very not safe for public noise. He's still wearing his briefs, but his dick is straining against them and his knees are all bent like he's about to thrust up to the camera and he drives you fucking wild.

You reluctantly stop staring at your amazingly hot boyfriend's junk that is so rudely kept hundreds of miles away from you, and replace your phone to your ear.

'You're so fucking hot,' you whisper.

'I'm feeling pretty hard,' he says, annoyingly casual. 'How are you feeling?'

'I could karate chop through 15 bricks with my dick right now,' you whisper, 'which fuckin' ruins my plan of sneaking out of the movie theatre and doing this at home.'

'Don't even think about that, Dave,' he says sternly. 'And not good enough. I want you to feel yourself, over your pants, tell me how hard you are.'

You moan quietly before doing as he says. 

'I'm ... really fuckin' hard, John. I need to readjust, make some room, you know? Can I unzip?'

'Good boy for asking,' John says. 

You flush with your whole god damn body when he says shit like that. You thought it was kinda cold in the theatre but you're way too hot now.

'But no,' he says. 'Wait for me.'

You whine in protest and you know that if he was here in person you'd get a slap for that. You shift in your seat until you're just on the edge of it, hoping the angle change will make you more comfortable. He didn't say you couldn't readjust, but if you break an implied rule like that he won't be happy. God damn, he has you fucking trained. He's not even here to know and you won't dare.

'What's on the screen?' John asks.

'I couldn't give less of a shit,' you say, but you look anyway. 'Ugh, it's in black and white and everything.'

'What, so black and white is only for your selfies?' 

'Shut up,' you say, intelligently. Your mind isn't exactly in a witty comeback kind of place at the moment.

'Okay,' he says. 

And then he does this delicious breathy moan.

'What are you doing?' you beg.

'You ...' he sighs, 'told me to shut up.'

'John, fuck, no, please. Please tell me what you're doing.'

You hear the hum of a vibrator and John's breath hitches. He's the worst. He's the best and he's the worst and he didn't tell you that you could touch yourself yet and you fucking hate him.

'John,' you whine.

'I'm just ... holding it,' he says. 'Holding the vibrator next to my dick. Through my underwear. Feels nice. Gonna ... tease. Gonna take it slow. If I can. It feels really good, Dave.'

Your moan in response is too loud and you scoot even further down in your seat as if that helps at all. 

'Please let me,' you whisper.

'Let you touch yourself too?' He hums thoughtfully. 'Okay, you can unzip and get yourself comfortable. Tell me as you do it.'

You scrunch your eyes closed, as if that will help. 

'I'm unbuttoning my jeans,' you whisper. You've had to get better at the whole narrating thing with this long distance bullshit.

'Unzipping. God, you fucker, the ... the fucking pressure of the zip.' You groan appreciatively when you're free.

John's breathing is heavy in your ear and that's making this whole thing a lot hotter. You kinda wish you'd brought your dorky headphones with the mic so you could use both your hands without getting a cramp in your neck.

'I'm ... um, I'm pulling my dick so that it's straight, like, up my belly. It's ... just pokin' out the top of my boxers all impudent.'

'Can you take a picture for me?' John asks.

'Damn, John, it's fuckin' dark in here and if I use flash ... you want me to get kicked out? I shouldn't even be talking, this is so dumb, I'm gonna get banned, I'll have to move so I never accidentally run into anyone ever again.'

'Dave. Take a picture for me. And then you don't have to talk anymore. I'll do everything, okay?'

You bite your lip nervously. You know what, you aren't that attached to this neighbourhood. You pull out the camera, chuck it on flash and touch your free fingers to the fabric of your boxers, pulling them slightly so the shape is obvious. You click the button and then sit up, looking in the direction of the other dude in the theatre and the entrance. No one is looking at you. It's fine.

You look at the picture. It's honestly not your best dick pic, you like to make an art of it, but it's still nice. Certainly good enough that you aren't chancing doing that shit again. You send it to John and then replace the phone to your ear.

'I did it,' you breathe.

'You're so good for me,' he says. 'I'm gonna look, you just hold tight there.'

You can't hear shit while he looks at your photo. You shift in your seat, impatient. You don't know what he means by him doing everything. You've done phone sex plenty of times, it's kinda a two way street. 

After an eternity, John's voice comes back. 

'You're so gorgeous and good,' he says. 'You deserve a reward.'

You sigh with relief, taking hold of yourself through your boxers and squeezing gently. 

'You can put your finger in your mouth,' he says. 

You let go of your dick immediately. You jumped the gun there. He's gonna torture you, isn't he.

'I only got one hand 'cause of the phone,' you remind him quietly. 

'And you don't want people to hear you talking,' he says. 'So put your finger in your mouth and if you're good I'll let you have another.'

You do as he says, licking at your finger until it's slick and comfortable in your mouth. The salty flavour of skin and the pressure on your tongue is nowhere near close enough to a dick but it's something and you're getting desperate enough to thrust uselessly up into the air while you wait for him to let you get off.

'I like the sound of your mouth,' he tells you. 'I think you were probably made to suck me. Otherwise you wouldn't sound so good like that. You can have another finger, I know one isn't enough for you.'

You moan lowly as you slide a second finger into your mouth. Some of your spit drops down your chin, but you leave it. John hasn't said you can be clean.

'I had to turn the vibrator off,' John says. 'You're too hot for your own good. I know you're sorry though. I'm stroking myself just imagining you there, trying to keep quiet, trying to be good.'

You're struggling on the trying to keep quiet thing. John's got you trained to be more vocal so that phone sex is better. It's hard to break the habit.

'It's not long 'til I'll be there again, then you can take me back to the cinema you're in right now. Do you think I'll need to work very hard to convince you to suck me off?'

You groan out something like a denial around your fingers. You push them deeper into your mouth, wanting it to feel like it's his dick in your mouth right now. It takes nothing for you to go down on him, he's got a nice dick and the sounds he makes are just addictive as fuck. And if you get him properly worked up and then get him to fuck you it's mind-blowingly good, you love it when he’s too far gone to be gentle with you. God, you want that.

'Baby do you want to touch yourself? I think you're ready for that. You can do it, I want you to rub your spit into your dick for me, okay?'

Your breathing is heavy and broken as you do as he says. After being neglected, your dick jumps in your hand when you touch it. Your fingers are dripping and combined with your pre your dick is quickly slick in your hand. You pump yourself slowly, not willing to go all out unless you have permission.

'That's my good boy,' John says. 'You're so good, Dave, so hot, keep going for me.'

Your hand speeds up even before you process the meaning of his words, just because his tone is reassuring and encouraging. You're struggling to keep your grip on your phone because your palm is sweaty, but you dig your fingers into it desperately as you bite back another groan. 

'Are you getting close yet?' John asks. He's breathless too and you can hear the sound of skin against skin, a quick, dirty rhythm that you have to be careful not to match. You have to be quieter, subtler. He's allowed to make all the noise he wants. It's frustrating and hot all at the same time.

'Yes,' you whisper. 'Please.'

'Mmm,' he says. 'This is a really good present, Dave.'

'Please, John, please, let me come, I'll be good, please.' 

The words come out without your permission and in a frantic whisper. John moans luxuriously and you hear him speed up into a stuttering pace. You force yourself to go slower, gentler. You know you're not allowed to come until he does. You whimper quietly because knowing you're not allowed to only seems to push you closer to the edge.

You're still murmuring 'please' under your breath like it's a chant, when you hear him make that noise he makes when he comes, gorgeous and desperate and yours. You can't help that you come too, silently and thankfully into your hand. You catch your breath while you consider what the hell to do with your mess. That one is not a decision to leave up to John, no matter how much you trust him to look after you.

You're gonna do the classic sock trick, except you can't get your shoe and sock off with one jizz filled hand, so you're going to have to tell John you're putting him down anyway.

'You can come, Dave,' he says. 

You swallow nervously.

'Yeah, might have already achieved liftoff,' you say. 'Sorry Houston, we're halfway to the moon already.'

John sighs. 

'Okay, that was really hot and everything, but I'm still gonna have to punish you for that.'

'I know,' you say. 'Gimme two tics.'

You put the phone down on the chair next to you and shake out your arm. Home and speakerphone is sounding pretty good. You pull off your right shoe and sock and clean yourself off. You're gonna have a shower when you get home. You wish you could say that this is the grossest thing you’ve ever done. At least you haven’t been walking around long in them. 

After a second's thought, you pull your other shoe and sock off as well and put your dirty sock inside the other one. Sorry, backpack. You put your shoes back on and pick up your phone.

'Okay, I'm getting out of here. Have you decided my punishment?'

'If I was feeling evil instead of glowy I'd make you watch the rest of the foreign film,' he says. 

You snigger as you make your way out of the theatre. 

'I think I have to teach you patience again,' he says. 

'Dude, I was going fine until you made that noise. I can't help that you're my dick's kryptonite.' 

John laughs in your ear. 

'Whatever dude,' John says. 'That doesn't get you off the hook.'

You nod agreeably as you walk through the mall and back to the street. He comes up with increasingly stupid punishments to make you laugh until you get to your apartment. 

'Okay, shut up, I can't-pfft-I can't manage a key while you're doing this bullshit,' you say.

'Oh hey,' he says, 'I can get that for you.

'The door opens. You drop your phone in shock. John almost catches it. The screen shatters, obviously. You ignore it in favour of gaping at him. 

'Surprise?' John says, holding his arms open.

You jump into his arms and he somehow catches your legs around his hips. 

'Buffest boyf ever, I'm so fucking lucky,' you say.

John groans and laughs at the same time, something that he's perfected in your continued relationship. He kisses you despite his grin and that's pretty perfect too.

'I'm still going to punish you,' he assures you.

'Good,' you say. 

He rubs his nose against yours like a bunny rabbit. You squeeze your legs around his waist. 

'Can you ... like just keep holding me?' you ask. It's getting a bit ridiculous. 

'Duh,' he says. He kicks your broken phone into the apartment before he carries you into it and knocks the door almost closed with his head. It's ... really ungainly. You love him so much. He has to lean into the door to actually make it shut.

'That wasn't a request,' you say, 'like, I want this to keep happening, this is weirdly comforting, but I was more, like, questioning your ability to do this shit.' 

He cuddles you close and shows zero sign of dropping you. You're inwardly giggling. Maybe even outwardly just a tiny bit. Point proven.

'Okay, secondary point, or third, I dunno, whatever, not important. Were you jerking it in my bedroom? How did you get out here and when?'

'Ummm, okay, Dirk gave me a key, I've been here for an hour, I did jerk it in your bed, how the fuck did you not recognise your own sheets? Aaaand, I'm gonna spank you 'til you have the cutest, reddist butt.'

He carries you all the way to your bed before he drops you. 

'Are your arms even sore?' you ask.

'Nope! Lucky, seeing as I'm going to use these babies to spank you.'

You raise your eyebrows at him over your shades. He shakes his arms comically. Why are you with him? Because he's wonderful and you love him.


End file.
